Backwater God
by Hailey Westerholdt
Summary: Out of all the times Kenny has died this is the first time someone remembers. Now he only needs to convince Butters he isn't going insane. Warning: Some violence, language, KennyxButters Bunny slash
1. Butter's dream

Hi everyone! This is my very first south park fanfic, this plot just came to me one morning and demanded to be written down. I estimate that it should be about 6 chapters in total. Reviews make me a happy girl! :)

Backwater God

Chapter 1: Butter's Dream

Butters knew that something was wrong right away. If asked where this dark feeling of foreboding came from he wouldn't know how to describe it at all. It was just a hunch. Something about the busy street right in front of him and his little group of friends seemed awfully off, as he struggled to find an opening between all the moving vehicles big enough for the group to quickly cross the street. The rain was very light now, more uncomfortable then really strong enough to sip through their clothes in a matter of minutes. While looking left and right like he had been taught to as a kid, he squinted his eyes, already slightly annoyed by the way the constant drizzle of rain made his hair stick to his forehead. His friends all did the same standing next to him. Kyle and Stan stood close to each other, continuing their conversation over the loud noises all around, both looking unaffected by the weather. Behind them, further away from Butters stood Cartman, who was busy with the slice of pizza he had bought as the third snack since dinner an hour ago, protecting it eagerly with a paper napkin while clumsily trying to hold it straight so it wouldn't slip from his grasp. Next to him stood Kenny, who watched the fight between boy and rain and flighty pizza with a mixture of disgust and interest, his hands hidden in one of his typical grey band hoodies of some band Butters didn't listen to, the hood drawn up covering his hair and shadowing his face. Clyde and Token were chatting behind him, or rather Clyde chatted away merrily most likely about some girl or other and Token politely listened to him ramble on. Craig and Tweek stood closer to him, the taller boy questioning the twitchy blonde about the movie they had just all seen together. But actually he was busying himself more with looking at Tweek in what he obviously believed to be a subtle way than to really ask detailed questions. The smaller male seemed to glow with both happiness and embarrassment, especially as Craig took of his dark brown leather jacket and draped it around his boyfriend's shoulders who had forgotten his as usual. Butters smiled and then quickly turned his had to face the street again. The approaching dawn tinted everything in a strange bluish light, the passing cars and motorcycles quickly becoming nothing but blurry lights. But there was this feeling, this weird uncomfortable feeling that started somewhere in his stomach and somehow made it's way upwards, causing his throat to feel very tight all of a sudden. As he lifted his finger to swipe a lock of hair back from his forehead he realized that something was going to go terribly wrong. Everything happened very quickly but at the same time it seemed oddly muted, as in slow motion almost. Butters' legs were unable to move on and he could only watch on as one pairs of lights suddenly seemed to slip.

Cartman's half eaten slice of pizza slipped from his grasp and fell in a unsightly heap to the pavement, the paper napkin immediately taking of in a soft breeze of wind. From the corner of his eye, he could see Craig moving first, grasping Tweek's arm tightly and pulling him off to the side. Stan and Kyle also reacted quickly moving closer to Butters, Kyle accidentally giving him a shove between the ribs with his elbow. Clyde and Token watched on shocked but fortunately out of harm's way. Cartman hesitated for a moment, his feet glued to the ground, panic etched on his face but just before the out of control car could hit he staggered the few inches to the side that saved his life. Gruesomely slow it seemed to Butters, that the front of the car breached the invisible barrier between street and pavement that decided life and death, and took the slender, grey clad body with it. For a part of a second it seemed as if the car came to a stop when it reached Kenny's middle, his eyes barely visible under his hood grotesquely widened, but then the boys feet stopped touching ground and for a moment he flew through the air. When he touched the pavement again he did so first with the back of his head. The impact catapulted him again a few inches up before his body came to rest on the ground. A thick blotch of red was immediately all around his head, the hood fallen off, his dirty blond hair standing out wildly in every which direction. His eyes were still open widely, and Butters could tell that there were a lot of bones broken from the odd angels of his arms and legs and the unnatural bumps visible underneath his Shirt that were most likely broken ribs.

Without any doubt Butters knew that Kenny was dead before he had even hit the ground.

Everything was a big blur of grey and blue, only Kenny's light grey clothing with the messy black and orange lines forming rather crudely drawn faces and the dark blood quickly leaving his body in various places, soiling hair and clothing on its way, stood out garishly against the cold asphalt around him.

Then, almost too late, screams started to echo through the street, panicked voices shouting all over each other, horrified faces in the corners of his vision. Still staring and the thin figure on the ground Butters suddenly felt the first tears rush out of his open eyes. Now that the display of blood and death and the brutal ending to his friend's life caught up with him, his hands started to tremble violently, his legs losing the tension he hadn't earlier been aware of and feeling like jelly, and he heard the desperate, helpless, terrified sounds of his own sobbing above anything else. And all he could see were Kenny's wide open eyes staring up into the sky, having lost their reflex to close as the rain continued to fall.

Butters jolted violently, his heart pumping blood through his body as if there was no tomorrow. His breath came in quick sharp gasps, his hand flew up to his chest automatically.

For a few seconds he just sat, trying to reign in his rapid breathing. After a few long calming intakes of oxygen his sense of orientation started to kick in too. The familiar blue patterns of his comforter greeted him first, the last stuffed animal he kept in his bed at the age of 15 (being a cute grey squirrel his aunt had given him as an eater present when he was eight)and the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to his wall next to the bed immediately made him feel safer. He let out one last shaky breath before ungracefully falling back onto his pillows, wiping sweat and hair out of his face. There was no street. They had not been to the cinema together and Kenny had not been hit by a car. It had been just a dream, just a nightmare.

Butters frowned. Normally he dreamed of things… less violent. In most of his dreams there were open fields, sunshine, occasionally his father sternly looking down at him and grounding him until he turned 21, but never blood and panic and death. Or at least, he normally didn't remember nightmares like that if he had them. He sighed loudly and turned his head to look at the digital clock on his nightstand. It read 3:54. It took him a few seconds to realize that this meant 3 more hours of probably tossing and turning and not going back to sleep. Who would be able to just turn around and peacefully slumber on after a dream like this?

Everything had looked so incredibly real. Sure, his parents and teacher and virtually everyone he knew told him he had a wild imagination, his father had often told him off for telling lies when he had been sure to be telling only the truth. His mother would always say "Butters, sweetie, you really should be old enough to know the difference between reality and imagination by now". It reminded him of the time when he was 9 years old, happily playing in the backyard with a box full of costumes that he would use to dress up and just let all the ideas and stories in his head run wild. For his vast amount of imagination he had been sent to a psychiatrist, diagnosed with non-existent schizophrenia by a doctor who himself was the biggest nutcase around. In his dream, he had felt the rain on his skin, he had seen every hair on Kyle's head curling, he had seen the rough texture of Craig's leather jacket, he had smelled the pizza Cartman had been trying to eat. He had heard all their voices clearly, he had heard the car hitting the body, the bones breaking, the panicked screams.

He suddenly felt ill. The darkness around him seemed to re-awaken the memories so he reached over to turn on the lamp on his night stand. The smell of Kenny's blood seemed to linger in his nose evoking an unknown feeling of disgust and fright. He figured that if he would not be able to go back to sleep anyway he should at least try and cheer himself up a little. He got up and took a large box filled to the brim with all sorts of Disney movies from its place, now feeling very much in the need of some childish, unthreatening, non-violent entertainment.

Some ten minutes after the bell had rung and all the students in his class had settled down, Butters did begin to worry a little. Because what could be worse then worrying about Kenny McCormick and really needing to make sure he was fine and the boy never showing up at school? Of course, Kenny was prone to being late but usually not more than a few minutes (usually the time it took to quickly smoke one more cigarette secretly behind the building). For some reason Butters couldn't explain and knew not to talk about to the others as they would just laugh and call him a fag anyway, he felt nervous and somewhat shaky all day. Not as bad as Tweek of course, but still he just couldn't manage to be his usual cheery, carefree self. He thought he others noticed as he met some questioning glances here or there, but when he didn't come forward to talk they all just probably assumes he had a headache or felt queasy or something.

He had to tell himself at least 20 times throughout the school day, that what he had seen in his dream was in fact NOT real. If it was, Stan and Kyle and the others would sure be shaken up and sad and talk about the dramatic death of their friend the night before. But none of them seemed any different at all. And although Butters knew that the guys could sometimes be real assholes (Good thing he had only said that in his head. If he'd said it aloud he was sure his father would have grounded him for a week), still they wouldn't just walk away from Kenny's dead body as if nothing had happened.

So, he figured, Kenny was simply skipping. Which actually wasn't very much like him, as he always said he was glad for any minute he could avoid hanging around at home, but it wasn't like it was totally unbelievable to imagine Kenny just skipping because he didn't feel like coming to school. Not like anyone was really controlling him. Besides, maybe the explanation was far easier and far less messy? Maybe he was skipping to be with a girl. The boy always managed to get to know pretty girls outside of his own class or his own school even. He usually only hang out with them for two weeks or so and usually not during school hours, but that was the best Butters could come up with.

All day, the images from his nightmare came back to haunt him. When the tomato sauce that greeted him atop his spaghetti for lunch had pretty much the same color as Kenny's blood on the pavement, he really couldn't bear to eat it. He discreetly pushed his plate over to Craig, who was the tallest boy in their year and could easily eat more than all the other boys together and still ask for seconds. Not even Cartman had that much room in his stomach which was kind of weird considering Craig's slender figure (Craig said it was Karma that loved him and hated the fat ass respectively). The weather was still kind of the same as it had been yesterday. No, wait. Hadn't it been okay yesterday afternoon? It had been way sunnier, Butters remembered. But what about later in the evening or at night? What exactly had he been doing yesterday evening anyway? Butters found that he really couldn't remember clearly. He probably had just gone to bed after dinner. And as he was often kind of scatter-brained it probably was no big deal that he could only vaguely remember the night before. Besides, he had had this terrible nightmare! So it wouldn't be a shame to be somewhat shaken up, right? He resolved not to think about these confusing, unsettling things anymore but instead to intently listen to Mr. Garrison's detailed retelling of Episode No. 307 of the Love Boat.

First one down! This chapter concentrated only on Butters, but the confrontation with Kenny follows in the next Chapter! Pls review.


	2. Crossing the border

And here we are! Welcome to chapter 2! Thanks for the nice reviews, and putting me on favorites/alerts. It really pushed me to finish this chapter quickly. By the way, the boys are about 15 or 16 year old in this story. And of course I don't own anything except for the idea.

Chapter 2: Crossing the border

Evening came and went and so did Butters' bedtime. The images from his dream had been half-buried over his daily activities and when he had been eating dinner with his parents and watching a bit of TV after that, he had nearly forgotten about the weird queasy feeling that had accompanied him all day. Now that he was alone, lying in his bed with the blanket pulled up under his nose, his plushy squirrel in his arms, the dream from the night before was rearing it's ugly head again. Butters proudly noted that he had managed to stay in bed for more than three hours now. His parents would be awfully sore with him if he didn't at least try to fall asleep. But they had gone to bed two hours ago and for one and a half hour there had been not one noise from their room. Therefore, the blonde deemed it safe enough to get himself a snack or some warm milk from the kitchen. He quietly got up, listened for any monster that might roam the hallway for a moment, then opened the door and quickly switched on all the lights on his way downstairs. As he gulped down a glass of milk in a matter of seconds, contemplating on whether to make himself a sandwich or just take a bowl of dry cereal up to his room, his gaze was drawn to the window.

Stars, hundreds of them, beautiful little white lights littered the cloud-free pitch black sky and the boy smiled widely, feeling a bit cheered up now. He abandoned the ripped open bag of cereal on the counter and made his way over to the backdoor that lead into the garden. He was still in his dark blue pyjamas with the nice vertical stripes in different blue tones and barefooted, but just for a quick look at the stars it should be enough, right? He found a pair of yellow rubber boots, that he quickly pulled on because after a rainy day like this, their untended back garden was usually a big puddle of mudd. And then finally, he could feel the icy night air all around, the squishy sounds of mudd underneath his boots and he could see thousands of stars in the clear sky. Feeling awed like a little kid, he turned on his heels, stumbled backwards then turned a few times in awkward pirouettes his hands reaching upwards and a wide grin on his face. It was just so pretty! He certainly felt better now. He stumbled slowly through the garden his face upwards so he didn't exactly see where he was going. He danced ungracefully through the small passage between the house and the hedge that separated their grounds from their neighbors' and stood now in their front yard, a content smile on his face and he took a few last deep breaths, ready to go back in now.

But he didn't go back inside as something suddenly grabbed his attention. He first heard it, a dragging sound, the crunching of dirt beneath shoes on the street and a metallic sound. Then, not a minute later he saw him. It was unmistakably Kenny. No one else drew up their hood over their face like that with a few strands of messy dirty blonde hair spilling out in the front. What was perhaps even weirder than seeing Kenny pass by his house in the middle of the night was the fact that Kenny was pushing a motor scooter next to him along on the street. It had a red front, Butters noticed when Kenny came closer to the nearest street light, and it seemed to be rather difficult to push through all the mudd and puddles that had accommodated everywhere on the bumpy road before him even if it wasn't particularly heavy. There was a metallic rattle whenever he dragged the scooter over some cragged part of the asphalt. Butters stood transfixed, the sight of the other boy awaking somewhat mixed feeling in him, relief of course, but also a really strange instinct to stay away from the boy that he couldn't explain even to himself.

However, when Kenny passed his fence he couldn't help but quietly call out to him.

At first it seemed Kenny hadn't heard him, or if he did contemplated whether he would just ignore the smaller blonde, but then slowly came to a halt and slowly turned his head around to find Butters standing only a few meters away in his striped pyjamas and garish yellow rain boots.

"...Hey Butters." He greeted quietly, looking expectantly at his classmate as if to inquire his weird choice of clothing for a walk through the muddy yard at nearly 2am. Butters came tentatively closer to the fence. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Just…uhm, taking care of something."

"Oh. Oh well. But uh, why do you have a scooter with you? You know, you shouldn't do any illegal things. You might really get into trouble…"

"It's not really illegal. I mean, my brother sort of… borrowed it. And I've been kindly asked to return it. But the bastard drove the tank completely empty so now I have to drag it around instead of just driving it back, you know?"

Although Kenny and Butters didn't necessarily talk a lot to each other, Butters knew him well enough to be surprised at Kenny's frustrated undertone. He tried to meet Kenny's eyes in the shadow of his black hoodie but instead found some very prominent discoloring on the boy's cheek. Asked kindly, huh? "Oh, I see… "he stuttered kind of at a loss of what to say.

"Yeah…" Kenny replied awkwardly, shifting his weight again to his arms to get the scooter to move again and to leave. Butters suddenly felt a need to keep him with him a little longer. He seemed alright but what if he really wasn't? And wasn't kind of a weird coincidence that Kenny got beaten up just when Butters had a nightmare in which he got hurt? Kenny often got into scuffles but usually they were more playful than really violent and he had never seen the boy with half of his face beaten black and blue. "Kenny?"

"Yeah?" Kenny paused, seeming slightly annoyed at having to stop again.

"A-Are you alright?"

"What? Yeah, sure I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you…you have a bruise in your face…and uh…"

"Oh that. That's nothing really. Don't worry."

"But you weren't in school today either, and-"

"I just had to take care of a few things."

"W-well it's still weird, you know? Cause, you seem awfully sore about something, and you're usually so cheery and got beaten up- and I know it's stupid to worry when you said not to, but I just had this really weird dream too…!"

Kenny rolled his eyes behind his hood impatiently, not really in the mood to listen to the boys endless rambling. "Butters, I think you're old enough to tell nightmare from-"

Butter interrupted his sentence rushedly. "I know! I am! But it was a really bad dream!"

The taller boy sighed defeated and pushed some stray strand of hair back into the confines of his hood. "I gotta go Butter, I-"

"Please Kenny! I'm just worried about you!"

"I'm FINE"

"But you died in my dream and it was so terrible and really realistic, and you suddenly are all beaten up and moody and I just want to help you, cause you're my friend 'n all…"

Butters had lost the other boy's attention after the first few words. Kenny stood frozen like a statue, staring straight ahead, his back to Butters who continued to babbly his head off at alarming speed.

"How did I die?" he pressed out, still not looking at the fretting boy behind him.

"W-what?" Butters squeaked, who had lost the thread during his constant broken explanations.

"In your dream. How did I die?"

Kenny sounded surprisingly hostile all of a sudden, his shoulders so tense that the small blonde feared that something might just snap if he kept being so strained. "W-well, it was kind of stupid.. but errm… we were all out to see a movie, Stan and the others, and Clyde and Token and even Craig and Tweek were there. And it was pretty dark and there was a big street and uh…well, there was a car that got out of control and I dreamed that it hit you and killed you…" Butters mumbled, his head beet red. Now that he was supposed to recount it it suddenly sounded totally stupid and childish. He just waited for Kenny to throw some insult along the lines of "Grow up, fag!" at him, but nothing came. Not an insult, not a gesture of brushing him off. There was no reaction at all from the taller boy. Which again sent Butters into a fit of worry and panic.

"I'm sorry, I know it's really stupid, but when I woke up I just had this really bad feeling… forget I said anything."

There was an incomprehensible mumble beneath Kenny's hood that could have meant "What the fuck?" but he couldn't be sure. The tension left his back however and he slumped forward as if defeated.

"Butters, what would you do…if that hadn't been a dream?"

Now the smaller boy was confused. Of all things Kenny could have said or thrown at him, he asked him to spin together some unrealistic sort of what-if-theory?

"W-well, I would be devastated of course. Everyone else would be, too, that's for sure!"

Kenny sighed a deep long sigh as if he had just fought an epic battle and lost.

"Can we talk somewhere private, Butters?"

"Well, sure I guess. But you have to be really quite so we don't wake up my parents, ok?"

Kenny nodded solemnly and followed Butters through his front yard, leaving deep marks in the muddy ground with the wheels of the scooter. He leaned the machine on the back wall of the Stotch's house, and left his completely dirt covered sneakers hidden behind Butter's rain boots outside on the porch before following him upstairs to his room.

Kenny sat down heavily on Butter's bed, the smaller boy silently switching of the light in the hallway, then shutting the door and moving to sit next to his classmate.

"Are you alright, Kenny? You don't look so good…" And boy, did he not look good. He had pushed down his hood inside the warm house, his dark blonde hair messily standing out in every direction, looking as if it hadn't seen a brush in some time. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, further succeeding in making him look tired and unhappy. The bruises on his face had roughly the same color, but there were far more of them than Butters had expected, even a few gashes above his right eye that must have bleed rather profusely. He also had a split lip, nothing too bad, but there was still some dried up blood on his lower lip that looked as if it must sting quite a bit.

Kenny wiped both his hands through the mob of hair on his head, stayed for a moment with his head down and then looked up at Butters with a gaze that was far more serious than any the boy had ever seen from him.

"You have to tell me what exactly you remember from your dream."

"Y-you're starting to scare me Kenny…." To his surprise a warm hand found it's way onto his back.

"There's no need to be scared. Please just tell me everything, ok?"

And so Butters retold his dream, often drifting off to minor details, trying to stall the gory parts for a bit longer. But eventually, he told Kenny about the sickening crunch of bones, the blood, the screams and having this terrible foreboding feeling all day.

"God damnit…." Kenny forced out, his face in his hands after Butters had finished his retelling.

Butters stared at him the whole time, trying to measure his reactions and finding some meaning behind it but failing horribly. Kenny didn't make any sense at all and it was really starting freak him out by now. Sure it was nice that he listened to what Butters had to say, but to react this strongly to a dream, wasn't that a little overboard?

"What is going on here?" he nearly whispered, as if fearing any loud noise could provoke Kenny into a sudden fit of rage. Again he had to wait a minute for an answer.

"Look, Butters. I really don't know how to explain. No one ever remembered before, you know? So I never made plans on what to say."

Okay, maybe it was time to give the nearest mental institution a call… Butters carefully shifted away from the obviously _very confused_ boy next to him.

"Alright, so what if I told you what happened yesterday was not a dream?"

"Of course it was a dream." Butters reasoned, "There's no way you could have survived that accident."

"Yeah, well, you see, that's just the point. I kind of didn't."

End of Chapter 3. Sorry for the Cliffhanger- in the next Chapter we will witness Kenny's explanation and claims that he isn't completely crazy. Feedback is very much appreciated!


	3. Fucked up Ghost Story

Hi everyone! I really wanna thank my reviewers, you totally gave me a boost! Writing this little story is a lot of fun, and the words just keep coming somehow. I hope the conversations sound halfway convincing, I am really trying to make it look realistic. I hope all the spaces and filler words (like "uh" or "errm" or something) don't annoy anyone, but I think if you were struggling for words you would have a lot of pauses and interruptions in the speech.

One reviewer pointed out that I didn't have many spaces in chapter 1 – that was 's editing, thanks for telling me, I guess I should be able to fix it. Funny they don't allow you to put some lines in between your paragraphs- why is that anyway?

Enjoy^^

Chapter 3: Fucked up Ghost Story

Butters' big blue eyes were intently focused on Kenny's grey ones. The look of serious contemplating wasn't one that often marred the younger boy's face and Kenny found he really liked the usual confused or happy expression better. Butters broke eye contact, his brows furrowing together angrily. "Forget it Kenny! Not this time!"

„...Wait... what?" Kenny struggled to find out how the answer to "I died yesterday" could possibly be "Not this time", but his brain was not able to connect the two sentences at all.

„If you're trying to trick me I'll have you know, it won't work this time! Did Cartman tell you to say all this weird crap? Well, you can go back to him and tell him that I'm not falling for it!"

"Oh goddamnit!" Kenny suddenly stood up angrily, all the tension in him coming to a peak resulting in agitation and hopelessness. Here he told someone his darkest secret and the damn fucker didn't even believe him! "I'm not fucking trying to trick you!"

"You guys say that all the time, but in the end I always fall for your stupid jokes and you all get to have a good laugh on my expense."

"I'm not lying!"

"Of course you are! I had a terrible nightmare last night and I was really worried for your sake and all you care to do is-"

"I'M NOT LYING!" Kenny shouted at the smaller boy, suddenly advancing on him with a few quick and surprisingly powerful steps. Butter stood up from his bed with amazing speed and tried to escape Kenny by retreating to the wall but the taller boy gained on him in a second and grabbed his arm harshly to turn him around to face him again.

"Ow, Kenny, you're hurting me!"

The tone of voice shook Kenny out of it. There was panic clearly apparent in Butters voice, and hurt. It wasn't only a demand to be let go off, but also the simple plea to stop the physical pain.

Kenny then looked down at his fingers that grabbed into Butters arm, pressing tightly into the fabric of his sleeve. He hadn't even noticed how brutal his grip had been and he let go as if his hand was on fire, only to look at Butters completely lost who met his gaze with obvious fear and insecurity.

An awkward silence stretched between them, Kenny's arm still raised but not touching the smaller boy anymore who stood half turned away from him, still ready to flee if the other suddenly attacked him again.

Kenny looked down at his feet, ashamed of himself. How could he just lose control in the blink of an eye like that? He could normally keep his cool better than that. Of course, as a boy from the worst part of South Park he had had his share of fights. Whenever he just saw red, he got so aggressive that he didn't know what he was doing anymore. Usually, this side of him was only known by the other unfortunate kids who lived in the same fucked up part of town where there wasn't anything but broken houses, rusty trailers and violence. But this time his rage had chosen the ever innocent Butters as a victim and he felt terrible for it now that his moment of blind raw feeling was over.

"I'm sorry, Butters." He pressed out after a long intake of breath. He could feel his heart hammering inside his chest, still feeling the after effect of his adrenaline burst.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Just forget I said anything." He looked to Butters but the other boy's fearful gaze didn't soften and all that followed was more thick silence.

"I'll just leave. Sorry to bother you." Kenny said and quickly turned around towards the door so the other wouldn't see the disappointment and desperation in his eyes. How could he have been so stupid? He should have denied everything! Instead he just had to go and tell the most naïve guy he knew the fucked up ghost story that was his life and have it backfire. He could only hope that Butters would just keep to himself what a creep he was and never mention it again.

Seeing Kenny approaching the door like a defeated dog had Butters relax his defensive stance. He wouldn't admit it if asked, but Kenny had just really scared the shit out of him. The taller boy was usually an easy going, laid back kind of guy but everyone knew that he wasn't necessarily nice to everybody. He had heard rumors about Kenny beating up other kids, never ones from their class, never the guys he hang out with on a regular basis, but the different kind of guys that he lived next door to. The kind of guys that came out of their trailers at night to seek alcohol and drugs and a good victim to beat half dead out of boredom. For a second, Butters had been able to glance at that other side of Kenny, the one that was heavily influenced by drugs and alcohol even if he didn't ingested them himself. But beyond that there had been someone frustrated, hurt and disappointed with his life and that's when Butter knew that there was no scheme to fool him this time.

"You…you're serious, aren't you?"

The simple question was enough to make Kenny freeze mid step his hand inches away from the door knob.

"You somehow seem to think that all this really happened yesterday." It was more of a statement than a question, but in Kenny a spark of hope fought it's way through the barrier that protected his heart.

"It did happen" he whispered. "No one remembers. No one ever believes me."

"Well you are going to have to explain all this to me. I don't think I get it at all. Are you really, _really _not just messing with me?"

"I swear I'm not."

"Swear on what?"

Kenny contemplated for a minute.

"On Cartman's fat ass?"

Butters laughed.

After Butters had made sure his parents hadn't woken up from all the ruckus they had made and after fixing some hot cocoa for them both they sat next to each other on Butters bed again, taking a sip from their drink now and then. The small blonde urged him to go on with his explanations but Kenny didn't really know where to start without making it sound like he was a total nutcase. When he couldn't come up with any good start after several strained minutes of silence he decided on a more direct approach.

"I can't die."

"You can't die? How do you mean?"

"Well, I guess it's not exactly right to put it this way. I can die… I just can't stay dead."

Butters blanched despite himself and desperately fought back the images from the few horror films he had been forced to watch by his friends last Halloween in order not to run away screaming.

"I've died lots of times before. It's like... I die but then I wake up in my bed as if nothing happened. As if it was all just a dream."

"But then how do you know it wasn't just a dream?"

"When I was younger I thought that maybe it really was, you know? That's because whenever I died I went to some very bright place that didn't seem very threatening at all. So I thought it was just a reoccurring dream. People sometimes have those, right? I think I heard this on TV sometime. But it turned out that it wasn't a dream at all. It was Limbo. You know, where the ghosts of little children go?"

Butters shivered involuntarily. In the back of his mind there appeared an image of a lost little ghost child with deadly white skin and a mad expression on their sickly looking face. He pressed his hand behind his back into a tight fist so Kenny wouldn't see. Don't think of The Ring, don't think of The Grudge, don't think of The Haunting, don't think of Silent Hill…

Think of butterflies and puppies and sunshine…yeah.

"But when I got older I usually went to heaven or to hell. You know, 'cause I grew up? It's kind of weird that I always end up in some other place."

"You've been to hell? Seriously? What is it like? Is it as bad as in the movies?"

"Depends on the movie I guess… But it's not so bad. I mean, they know me down there. It's even a bit funny when some giant demon thing or something walks by and says "Hey Kenny!" They just got used to my sudden visits."

Butters felt that he would throw up on his carpet, despite Kenny's dry tone.

"H-how many times…?"

"I don't know, I stopped counting. I die at least once every two months or something, I have no idea. I always wake up in my bed anyway. And every time it happens, everyone forgets about it immediately, even if I died right in front of them. Yesterday wasn't the first time you saw me dying Butters. It's a curse. Every morning after I die, people are like "Hey Kenny" as if they hadn't seen my fucking death with their own fucking eyes."

"T-that's just terrible…it's so cruel…"

"It's awful. It really, really is. But aside from the horrible pain I go through every damn time, no one ever remembers a thing. I think…"

"What do you think?" Butters asked carefully. Now that Kenny was on a roll, he wanted him to go on, even if he wasn't sure if he could stomach this macabre stuff.

"I think that if I wasn't being…resurrected or whatever it is one day, no one would even remember I ever existed."

Kenny said it very quietly and with an even tone of voice but to Butters he might as well have been screaming right in his ear while slapping him around the face a few times, so hard did that statement hit him. It nearly made him cry, that Kenny had to think about stuff like this, especially at his young age. What if Kenny someday really didn't come back and no one would even ask why his seat was empty? Would his best friends notice? Would all the pretty boys and girls Kenny flirted with on a daily basis notice? Would he himself notice?

"I don't think that would happen, Kenny. I think everyone would miss you very much." Butters said tightly, as if his throat was trying to squeeze the words back in, so he couldn't say them and make himself even sadder by voicing his thoughts out loud.

Kenny looked at him for a long moment without saying anything. Then he smiled. Not a nervous or awkward smile. Not a polite smile that was supposed to cover up his real opinion on Butters' words. It was a warm, caring, content smile, as if he wasn't constantly dying and coming back from the dead, but as if he was just a normal boy who had a bonding moment with one of his friends.

"You know, you're the first person to remember me dying."

"Really? I'm the first? Ever?"

"Yeah…not even Stan and Kyle ever did, neither did Cartman, but that doesn't surprise me much. Not even my parents- although that is probably even less surprising."

"Wow…I wonder what suddenly made me remember this time…"

"Thanks Butter."

"What for?"

"For remembering."

"T-that's hardly anything to-"

"No really. It really helped me. Made me feel better. So, thanks."

"… y-you're very welcome"

And then, just like that, Kenny McCormick fell in love with Butters Stotch.

Although at that moment it was only a spark, he immediately felt the impact that this little beginning of a feeling could have on his life and on his person. This could be something so much more special than anything had ever been, much closer and more important than anyone had ever been. He only had to give in to it. He only had to let it happen, let that little spark manifest in his heart and let it grow. It was a numbing thought to a boy who had never let anyone cross that certain barrier, who had never really known love. His first instinct was to put out the spark quickly before it could turn into a flame that he wouldn't be able to extinguish anymore by himself. It scared him shitless that he would have to make that decision, almost as much as the moment right before he got decapitated or burned or squashed or drowned. Butters' blue eyes still were on his, a soft, hopeful light in them and Kenny felt the need to go home, hide under the covers and cry.

"I should leave now. We got school tomorrow, and I still got to return the scooter." He stated lamely and stood up to finally leave Butters' house, really needing some time to be alone to think about whether his decision about telling Butters the truth had really been right. The small blond accompanied his friend outside, where Kenny picked up the scooter that still leaned abandoned at the side of the Stotchs' house. "Please don't tell anyone about this, alright?"

Butters promised so with unnecessarily many words and Kenny just stopped listening after a few minutes and just smiled as a way of saying goodbye. Butter stood in his front yard watching him drag the scooter away and kept watching his back until Kenny disappeared from sight.

Butters shivered slightly in his pyjamas, and threw a last glance at the road before turning around to get inside, as a realization suddenly hit him. His dad would ground his ass into next month for what Kenny had done to the front yard by dragging the scooter through the mud and leaving multiple deep furrows in the wet earth.

"What the heck am I gonna tell dad where the tracks in the mud came from? Oh, hamburgers…"

End Chapter 3. Now, we got a spark. Can Kenny resist the cuteness that is Butters? I don't think he can ;)


	4. I'm into you

Hi everyone, I'm back with another chapter. This one was terribly hard to write because it's sort of an in-between chapter- that's why it took me so long. I made a thousand changes and I'm still not completely happy with it. Describing their beginning of teenage love without making it too mushy nor making them too mature about it was hard- I've been out of that age for too long I think XD But of course, I can't make it too easy on them, either…

Pls leave a review!

Chapter 4: I'm into you

It was probably at about 12 years old that Kenny McCormick resigned to his fate. After countless deaths, one messier than the next, he finally gave up. He never tried to talk about his condition to his friends anymore after they had played superheroes in grade 4 and everyone had thought up some ridiculous "power" for their character. He hadn't. He had a supernatural ability already. One that scared the shit out of him most of the time.

When he awoke after dying from shooting himself in the head, he had made up his mind. His friends would never understand him. He loved them dearly, but he knew they would never be able to see this darker side of him and even begin to grasp how it felt and what it did to him. So he stopped talking about it. He was convinced he would probably never in his life meet anyone who would know, who would remember or who could understand.

Now he suddenly had.

The uncomfortable, too small chair was digging into his backside with vigor as Ms. Garrison drone on about some desperate housewife and her clothing choice in one episode or another. His head rested on his fist, his feet tapped on the ground in tact to an angry heavy metal kind of melody in his head. The work sheet in front of him still contained not one single answer to the questions on the blackboard but one hell lot of doodles. There was little Kenny in his drawn up orange Eskimo parka being stabbed, there was little Kenny in his drawn up Eskimo parka being run over by a truck, there was little Kenny being drowned, falling from a cliff and even crushed by a randomly fallen tree. He personally thought he had drawn exceptionally well. Kind of a pity he had outgrown the parka though.

In the background he heard Butters answer a question about a really lovely shade of indigo of the actresses dress or whatever. Who gave a shit about that anyway? What else could he draw- oh yeah- little Kenny being eaten alive by a bunch of rats.

In front of him Kyle was sprawled quite nicely across Stan's desk, giving Kenny behind him an exquisite view of his ass. If asked about his opinion on it he was sure to find tons of expressions and colorful imagery to describe how he felt about that. Or about anyone else's ass. Or boobs. Or whatever else they had. But faced with a certain short blonde boy's smiling face as he discussed trivial crap with their teacher he himself couldn't care less about, he felt completely at a loss of how to describe the new feeling. Why was it that he hadn't looked at Butters butt at all today but spent every second he could without being too suspicious looking into the other boy's face? What the hell what was wrong with him? Was he becoming some cheesy lovesick fuck in his old days? He couldn't help crane his neck every few minutes but whenever he felt anyone meeting his gaze he looked away quickly, not wanting to give away his sudden fixation. Mentioned blonde fixation sat in his seat two spots to his left but a row behind him. He wore a light blue polo shirt looking impossibly cute. Even Kenny noticed how it complimented his eyes and he never cared about such things. Tweek, who sat next to Butters, caught his straying gaze and the immortal boy noticed he had been staring like an idiot again. Tweek pushed one of his long sandy blonde strands out of his light green eyes and broke the eye contact between them quickly to glance over at Butters in what he apparently thought was a discreet manner. Damn it, just like chicks those two, Kenny thought frustrated. God, did he long for a smoke right now! Hm… if he drew little Kenny dying from lung cancer would he jinx it? He decided to go for it and went back to doodling on his sheet.

Butters looked up from his neatly filled out worksheet as he felt that he was being watched, but the eyes that had raked over him a minute ago were focusing on their owner desk again. The short blonde chewed on his pencil thoughtfully. He wouldn't admit it out loud – not even to his best friend Tweek, but he had noticed Kenny's continued staring all day. And if he was honest with himself, it wasn't like he didn't love the attention just a tiny little bit. It made him feel flattered though oddly shy at the same time. He laid his head in his palm smiling to himself and watching Kenny decorate his otherwise blank work sheet with funny doodles.

The awkward game of staring and getting caught and then quickly looking away -like they had just rested their gaze on the other one by accident for five full minutes- continued all day. And then another day. And another. By the next Monday and after a weekend of brooding, Kenny was at the end of his patience. How was he supposed to know how to talk to a guy anyway? It wasn't like he was one of those creepy losers meeting random strangers in the park at night while throwing lame pick-up lines around. He also wasn't some flaming little homo who could just waltz into the next gay bar and ask one of the other flaming homos for advice. That kind of sounded like a Butters thing to do anyway… Wait… did he just dis his love interest?

But with Butters, his usual approach of "Hey baby, you're cute – let's make out" would probably work anyway. Hmm… somehow that didn't feel completely right. Although making out with Butters seemed like a damn fine prospect right now. The little bastard had always been cute – pretty face, gorgeous eyes and blonde hair and one hell of a lovely butt, that was for sure. Why hadn't he ever before noticed the boy the way he did now? The young man sighed in frustration and took another drag from his cigarette while laying back on his bed. His room smelled so strongly of smoke that even he himself was annoyed by it, but then everything in their house stank of cigarette smoke. Or worse. The wallpaper had been white when he was a really small kid, he was pretty sure of that. Now it looked more yellowish-grey. Sometimes he was almost glad his friends didn't like to come over very often, Kyle would nag the shit out of him and the fat ass would laugh his aforementioned gargantuan behind off about the McCormick's not even being able to buy some new paint. Which was entirely true by the way.

Perhaps that was just one more reason why he had stayed away from Butters until now. Not only was the boy completely naïve (or so he had thought) and so due to sheer obliviousness a tough nut to crack; but also because he was actually quite well off. Both his parents had totally amazing jobs and milked a lot of money out of their respective companies. The only thing his own parents milked was the welfare system, which was too embarrassing to even mention to anyone. Butters would probably be grounded on the spot for having been asked out by trailer trash like himself. Well – they did live in a house (sort of- it was more of a bunch of planks randomly sticking together imitating the shape of a house ) that was surrounded by a lot of trailers. Did that make anything better? Hell no.

He took another drag, filling his lungs with lovely toxic smoke. Perhaps Butters wouldn't care about his suck ass living arrangements? He wasn't a chick, even if he often acted like it. He wouldn't expect Kenny to buy him a pair of shoes before every damn make out session, would he?

"Screw this" Kenny thought angrily, pressing the rest of his cancer stick into the ash tray on his nightstand that was one of those made out of plastic but trying to imitate actual wood and failing horribly at it. There was only one way to find out.

It took a day of careful observation until Kenny found his chance to strike. His brain seemed dreadfully empty. He didn't have a plan or strategy at all like he usually did. In addition, he felt like a total creep following the other boy around all day, not only through school, but also when Butters was on his way home. When Kenny saw his cute blonde prey entering a supermarket on his way back home Tuesday afternoon (a full week after their talk), he had found the perfect moment to pounce. The younger male was skimming through the aisle that held a variety of chocolate and other candy, humming along to the soft music that was played in the store while loading his arms with anything sweet and unhealthy.

Kenny watched him from the corner of the shelf, transfixed on the cheerful, bubbly kid that had turned his head so damn easily without even trying.

"Hi."

Butters was surprised by Kenny's sudden greeting but if the blush on his face was anything to go by, it wasn't an unpleasant meeting at all.

"Hey Kenny."

"What's up?"

"I'm just getting some sweets and stuff, It's mine and Tweek's movie night tonight."

"I see."

The two of them stood there for a moment, mortified and blushing which was in a way, a first for them both. Kenny had never had this much trouble talking to a ... well, a potential date he supposed. Usually he was all smooth talk and easy-going companionship. Now he felt sick, like something desperately wanted out of his stomach and chest area, but in a weirdly good kind of way. It was the first time he was afraid of screwing up. If he lost Butters' interest in him because he messed up – what would that do to him?

He sighed and brought his hand up to rub his neck in order to give it something to do other than nervously fidget at his side. As casually as he could muster himself to be he leaned against the shelf, the cookies with the colorful mascots on the packages behind him not exactly making him feel the manliest he could imagine, but he crossed his arms before his chest and tried not to look too much like a lovesick idiot.

"Hey, listen. Are you free on Friday? Cause if you have nothing else to do, perhaps we could go see a movie or something."

The biggest smile imaginable broke out on Butters face and Kenny felt lightheaded. Damn, what did this kid do to him? His brain felt all gooey and useless.

"I'd love to!"

The first half of Friday came and went extraordinary quick. After a school day full of discreetly shared smiles and glances Butter stood in front of his cupboard, scanning all of his clothes and trying to find something nice to wear for his first date ever. He suddenly was glad he had started getting ready for his date two hours earlier than strictly necessary. He wouldn't ever admit this aloud, but sometimes he was a bit envious of the girls. They had so many possibilities of what to wear and how to do their hair. He vividly remembered that one occasion in 4th grade when the other boys had dressed him up as "Marjorine", an incident which he had perhaps enjoyed a tiny little bit too much. But Kenny would probably not appreciate him wearing a wig with green bows. Probably.

His wardrobe consisted mostly of blues of greens, but nothing really special. It all seemed so dull and… unexciting. He found his phone underneath a few comics and called his best friend. Although Tweek was a little too nervous and twitchy to really be considered one of the cool kids, he actually had a nice way of dressing and surprisingly good taste.

"Ngh- Butters? Is that you?", came the usual stammering from the other end of the line.

"Yes, of course it's me. I need your help."

"Oh. Really? Oh god..."

"Look, I have a date tonight…"

"WHAT? A date? How come I didn't know about that!"

"…and I don't know what to wear. Can you help me decide?"

"That sounds like pressure! Wait- a date with who? It's not Cartman is it?"

"What? NO! Oh god no!"

"Oh…thank god. Wait- it's not Craig is it? You can't do this to me!"

"Tweek! Of course it's not Craig. As if he even would give me time of day or even look at me when he's got you. Besides, you should lay of the coffee, you seem pretty…tweeky today."

"I know, I know. Craig brought me a few of my favorite starbucks coffees earlier. Isn't he the best?"

"He sure is. Now help me pick a shirt."

A ridiculous amount of time later Butters stood in front of his mirror pulling at the thin blond strands on his head until he deemed them perfect. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a brand new polo shirt that Craig had said would look pimpy on anyone but him. It was a bolt turquoise color with a black collar and black sleeves and a few grey stripes across the chest area. It matched his eyes well and accentuated his dark lashes. "And if it does look pimpy", Butters thought just as the doorbell rang "Kenny is probably gonna like it all the more."

As he jumped down the stairs his mother gave him a slightly suspicious look. The blonde had told his parents he would go to the movies with some friends – not who or how many friends exactly, but as his mother held the door open for Kenny who looked better groomed than he had ever seen him before, he just desperately hoped she wouldn't catch on. If his parents found out he had lied to them he would face the biggest grounding of this year so far. Greeting the other boy just a little too enthusiastically he grabbed his jacket and made a bee line for the door, not giving his mum the time to ask any questions. Kenny shouted dutifully "He'll be home by eleven" just before Butters slammed the door closed in his parents' faces.

Kenny had arrived with his father's beat up old dodge that was in some places more rusty red than the original steel gray. Since he had gotten his licence to months ago he drove that thing around every chance he got. When they both sat the older boy finally got a chance to enjoy the view a little. It was obvious that Butters had put in an effort to look good for him and that made him feel strangely proud and damn hopeful. Admittedly, Butters always made sure to look good, always smelled like he had gotten out of the shower 5 minutes ago, even after a long school day in a way too hot classroom. His clothes were always perfectly ironed but usually quite plain in color. Something with so much contrast looked outright sexy on him, even though it made him look like a failed pimp of sorts.

Butters vibrant, bubbly way made it easy to talk to him without there being all that much awkwardness despite this being a first date for them - and a first date ever for the smaller blonde. He cheerfully talked about whatever came to his mind and so the car ride, standing in line to get tickets and snacks went by in no time at all. Kenny found himself enjoying the company more than he could remember any past date's company. Butters was sweet and fun, talking about things he could relate to –unlike girls who had drowned him in their usual insignificant complains about whatever bitch, their nails, their damn haircut or some shitty boy band. Before he knew it he sat in one of the red plushy chairs next to his love interest, staring at him transfixed and feeling oddly light. Automatically, sometime when the movie had started and he couldn't even remember the title anymore, his arm automatically went around Butter shoulders, gently hugging the boy to his side.

Butter was in heaven. He was pretty glad that it was so dark inside the theater, if Kenny saw his glowing blush and that stupid grin all over his face, he would surely laugh at him for being a kid about this. Kenny looked nice today, he wore a casual looking olive green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows along with used look jeans, that made his disheveled look seem wild but fashionable at the same time. Butters found he was a total sucker for this style, too. The taller boy felt warm and soft but at the same time hard and all sharp angles, and to be held in his possessive hug felt oddly flattering and addicting. He shifted a little closer to Kenny, somewhat angry at the stupid arm rest that prevented full out cuddling but he would take what he'd get.

Long story short – Butters was hooked and he had a feeling that Kenny was, too.

Fter the movie, they went to eat a late-night snack at some fast food restaurant before Kenny drove him back home just before eleven as promised earlier. It was strangely hard and disappointing having to leave Kenny's warm side after a quick cuddle in the car (Butters not being ready for any kissing business yet) and a promise to go out again soon. He couldn't help humming a happy little tune as he fumbled for his key in his pocket and waved to Kenny one more time before the older boy started up the engine and made his way back home as well.

Just as he was about to reach for the door to his house, Butters suddenly felt sick.

Then, everything happened very fast, a blur of emotion tore through him, leaving him unable to breath for a moment. There was a feeling of sickness, like he was about to throw up, then he felt cold, a shiver rushed down his back, leaving behind goose bumps. Then, there was a short burst of panic, a maddening feeling that made him want to scream but his throat felt too dry and tight and there was no sound coming from his wide open mouth. Then, he felt dizzy, the ground came closer and suddenly all went black. Butters sat up with a start and now, finally, a raw scream tore out of his throat, nothing but pure horror and desperate fear shaking his entire being.

Steven Stotch tore open the door to his son's room from which the terrible yelling had come. The light from the hallway fell on his boy, who sat trembling and crying, making odd sounds like a mortally wounded animal. "Butters! What happened?" He shouted and was at his son's side in less than a second.

Butters couldn't stop crying, even as his father pulled him into a gentle embrace.

"I don't know, Dad. I don't know…"

Kenny McCormick woke up in his bed a second after the other car had crashed into him and he had been smashed to death in the remains of the old dodge, which he was sure was somehow magically parked in front of the house without a scratch on it.

"Goddamit!"

He just really hoped that Butters hadn't felt this one as well. It would be a shame to ruin the really good night they had together.

End of Chapter 4.

Put your hands up if you think Creek is fucking adorable! :D I just had to put it in as a side dish, so to speak. Pls do me a favour and take the time to review!


	5. In And Out Of Love

Sorry for the long wait fellas, I have no good excuse except for "I wasn't inspired to write lately", which is entirely true. I have the next few chapters planned out now already so I should be able to write a bit faster. This story seems a lot like a high school love story but I am about to bring some more supernatural events into the plot.

Thanks to RandomStalker for reminding me of the simple fact that Butters shouldn't clearly remember the events from the day before, because this is what happened the first time Kenny died – thanks, I really was just about to screw that one up! :D Forgot my own plot there for a minute.

Pls R&R!

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It had been completely impossible to go back to sleep after the experience from the night before. Butters had really tried, but accomplished nothing but long and exhausting hours of tossing and turning and feeling sick to his stomach. Something terrible had happened again, he was sure. The gut-wrenching feeling, the inexplicable panic that had taken possession of him, the nauseus feeling, it couldn't mean anything else. Something had happened to Kenny. It was so hard not to imagine what might have happened to the other boy, even when he convinced himself that Kenny would be fine and he would see him again, that he spent the entire lonely night trying to ban the images from his bruised mind. Kenny's unseeing eyes haunted him, the body that was actually much bigger than his own looked so frail and small in all the possible outcomes his brain projected, and there was an ungodly amount of blood in each one of it. His father had actually tried to care for him after he had found him sobbing pathetically, he even had brought him some warm milk to calm him down and hugged him for a bit, but when Butters was incapable of recounting his supposed nightmare, Steven Stotch had given up trying to make sense of the gibberish at some point and told his son to go back to sleep.

Sleep didn't come however. When it was light enough outside to reach inside his room through the thick curtains the young boy stood on his feet groggily, finally giving up any further attempts to find sleep again. He actually gasped when he saw his face in the bathroom mirror. He couldn't remember ever looking this shitty aside from the rare occurrence that he was really sick and down with high fever. His skin was pale and sickly looking, but his cheeks were flushed which seemed a weird combination with the tired expression he wore. The dark circles underneath his eyes would be seen from a distance and even his hair looked matted and tiredly hung down to whichever side of his head it just happened to be at.

He couldn't clearly remember where he had been yesterday night either. He was supposed to have a date with the other boy, but had they actually been together? If the feeling of emptiness and loneliness was any indication, then no, they hadn't. There were a few blurred images and scenes in his head that might have been real, but could have been imagined or day dreamed as well. He remembered feeling happy and excited, a sensation that now seemed as far away from his as it could possibly be. He knew it wasn't actually the case, but still he felt as if he hadn't been very happy at all lately, as if the last few weeks had been so draining and long that they left him with nothing but numbness. If he concentrated very firmly he could see Kenny's face before his inner eye, smiling at him and looking relaxed. Was that the way Kenny had looked at him yesterday?

He needed the time to think.

He decided to spent his Saturday watching re-runs of old shows on TV and eating snacks until he felt sick from the mixture of potato chips, oreos and soda.

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Kenny McCormick had smoked almost a full pack of cigarettes on Monday morning. He knew Kyle would nag about the smell that clung to his clothes for hours, but he really couldn't bring himself to care now. He had this feeling that today would be nothing but awkward for him and this whole Butters thing. Call it intuition, but he was somehow sure that his last death had not gone unnoticed by the smaller blond. He threw away the last stump just as the first bell rung.

He soon found out that awkward would actually have been much nicer than what unfolded throughout the first 2 lessons shared with Butters. A few awkward glances, some uncomfortable feelings and maybe a bit of distance in the way the other boy would speak to him, he could handle all that. But what drove him up against the wall was Butters just completely ignoring him all of a sudden.

What the hell, right? Sure that occurrence from yesterday night might have freaked him out a bit, but that was no reason to avoid any kind of confrontation at all. Wasn't Butters always the one who said that people needed to talk about their problem to get it out of their system? Then why the hell would he run from the room whenever Kenny entered, not even looking him in the eyes anymore? He wouldn't say it out loud of course, but it stung. It stung like a bitch and he had no idea what to do about it. The smaller boy probably was finished with him now. It certainly seemed like he had made up his mind. Kenny gritted his teeth angrily as he leaned against the door of the toilet stall, ready to punch the next best person square in the face. Why the fuck did these things always happen to him? Sure- Butters was the first to remember but Butters was not the first to dump him on account of his apparently strange behavior. Was his Karma so damn bad that he wasn't even allowed to have a normal relationship once in his life? He should have stopped this way sooner, he realized, back when he wasn't so invested with his feelings in this whole business. The back of his head collided with the door and made a loud bumping noise. He gave another angry sigh and then unlocked the door (now suddenly kind of wishing he hadn't touched the germ infested surface with his head) but then stopped mid step.

Big light green eyes looked up at him from beneath a wild blonde mop of hair. Upon seeing his angry expression Tweek gave an involuntary twitch, accompanied by a little weird "NGAH!" sound, and nervously darted his eyes around the room, not wanting to seem confrontational in front of the enraged teen.

"L-look, man…" Tweek started, his shaking becoming worse. "I don't know what h-happened between you two- ngh… B-but you shouldn't just…y-you know? Let him go just like that. I don't think he'd want that."

Kenny honestly felt as if fate was trying to kick him in the gut. Whatever he did- it was wrong. And if he didn't do anything it apparently wasn't good enough either. This was really starting to piss him off.

"He's avoiding me! I can't even talk to him 'cause he won't let me!"

The smaller boy jerked at the unexpectedly loud reply, but bravely stood his ground. "W-well I think he wants to, but he probably just doesn't k-know how. You know, man. You can lead a horse to the water but you can't make it drink."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"That you need to figure out a way to prove to him that… ngh… that it's still worth a shot."

With that Tweek turned on the spot and was out of the door to the boy's room almost faster than Kenny could blink.

Kenny followed out the door after a moment's hesitation and tried to catch up to him, but the blonde had already met up with Craig again who shot him a dark look for apparently upsetting his boyfriend in some way. Kenny groaned inwardly and then made a beeline for the back of the school where he was determined to spend the rest of his break alone and in some resemblance of peace with only a pack of cigarettes to keep him company.

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The week went by way too quickly for Kenny's liking. He hadn't managed to get Butters alone even once by Thursday afternoon and the longer they went without talking the more awkward it became to even be in the same room or sit at the same table during lunch break. It figured that innocent little Butters was actually a genius at pretending. No one apparently suspected anything as far as Kenny could tell, there were no questions from their friends concerning Butters well-being, no comments about him seeming distracted or sad or whatever. This was what peeved him the most if he was honest. Butters seemed perfectly fine, as if he had already closed this chapter of his life and left it behind. He himself however had been asked whether he was okay by nearly every damn person he knew. He had fumbled so bad with his cigarettes behind the school building during break yesterday that even the insensitive bastard Craig had asked what the hell was wrong with him.

What WAS wrong with him? He had never been this affected by anything, ever! No one's eyes had ever haunted him before, he never remembered anyone's smell, never before had kicked his radio off his nightstand in a fit of rage when a cheesy love song was played.

Perhaps worst of all – he had never compared potential bedmates to anyone before. But yesterday when he'd actually managed to pester a free meal at raisins out of Token, he had compared some blond bitch with blue eyes, who called herself Corvette, to a certain someone – and the girl lost tragically in a duel she wasn't even aware of. She had been too fake, too forced in her cheerfulness, too annoying, and god damnit- had that been fake eyelashes? Butters didn't need shit like that, he was naturally pretty.

He groaned loudly at that and let his head collide painfully with his locker. He needed to do something about this. He needed a plan.

The dark blue curtains of the bedroom were drawn, shutting out most of the light from outside effectively. The door was locked, just in case. In the background was some rock music playing, the singer suffering quite badly during the recording if his screaming was any indication at all. But as long as the music was playing he knew his mother wouldn't disturb him, she knew he hated it when she came him when he wanted to listen to his music. In that regard at least, he thought, he had trained her quite well. There was a thick book on his floor, certainly thicker than anything he would normally read – especially if he wasn't being forced to do so. It was rather old and shabby looking, the dark cover pretty abused and faded. The writing and symbols embossed into the leather were hardly recognizable anymore. He'd found this baby at some kind of garage sale and actually had only meant to thumb through it out of boredom as long as his mother kept trying on stupid old hats nobody wanted anymore. But it had intrigued him although usually he didn't really have any interest in occult stuff. The woman who had sold it to him for 5 bucks had no idea how it had gotten into their yard sale in the first place, said she had never seen this old tome before. However, someone had obviously used it, as there were notes written in a messy scrawl here and there and a few extra notes and pages that seemed like they might hold some useful information. He took his laptop from his desk and placed it on the floor, trying to use Wikipedia as well as some less well known pages to find some cross information from what he had found out from the book. Really, if he put have of this passion into his school work, he'd not only be passing his classes but fucking own them, he thought with a snigger. As if that was gonna happen.

The reopened the book to the page he had marked by putting a chocolate bar wrapper in it, and looked again at the picture that had fascinated him to the point of igniting his enthusiasm so much that he was willing to do extra work. This was it, this was what he wanted. The person the book had belonged to before he himself had graced him with a bit of extra insight. There were a few papers with a ugly handwriting on it, that were not only sprinkled with a few notes here and there but also pictures of intricate circles and symbols that would supposedly contribute to his cause. He smiled happily. Here were enough people that had done some groundwork and now he only needed to find the connection. This should be easy enough.

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There were dark shades under his eyes that he wasn't able to get rid of, no matter how hard he scrubbed at them with the cheap green paper towels the school provided for their students. The bell had already rung a few moments ago and he could hear the masses of students making their way through the corridor towards their next classes, so at least nobody should be coming in to see him in this state. His cheeks were colored with irregular red blotches that looked like a blush gone wrong, but other than that he was almost sickly looking pale. His blue eyes seemed darker somehow, as if they were trying to reflect his mode and dim themselves into a duller shade than normal.

He looked like crap. Which was fitting, since he also felt like crap. Why did things always have to be so complicated? Why did he always have to feel so trapped? He wasn't the kind of guy to wallow in self-pity, but in a situation like this he could indulge himself a little, right? It was just so unfair for no reason. There was a guy he liked, a really nice boy, friendly and calm, with a strong personality. And good looking too, can't forget that part. But this one guy was also the guy with the most problems he knew. The poorest boy from the worst background with the least caring parents and the least fortunate _condition_. His slender hands gripped the basin tightly as he stared at his mirror image. What was he supposed to do?

A loud noise suddenly startled him and ripped his gaze away from the mirror and into the direction of the door.

The hood from the grey sweat shirt covered his entire face but Butters would know the person underneath anywhere. Kenny's hood shielded Butters from his view, he seemed oddly rushed as if he had run away from something to hide in the bathroom, pretty much like Butters himself had, too. His shoulders were slumped forward but still he emitted a nervous kind of energy. As the smaller blond stood frozen the intruder suddenly noticed that there was another person in the room.

Their gaze met after a split second and Butters immediately saw the mass of emotions cursing through Kenny. The older boy stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze giving Butters a sharp once over.

"Damn, you look like shit", he said, shutting the door with a little more force than strictly necessary.

"You… probably felt this thing, Friday night…?"

Butters only managed to nod shyly and look at him from underneath disheveled blond bangs.

Kenny fidgeted with a nonexistent strand of hair in his face, then heaved a long exhausted sigh, as his back collided with the bathroom door. "Look, I never meant for you to get involved in any of this."

"I'm really sorry Kenny. I'm just not sure how to cope with all this."

"I know. If it's impossible, than it's just impossible. I can't change that. I'm not going to force you into anything. I 'll just be leaving."

"Please wait." Butters interrupted, his old habit of rubbing his knuckles together taking him over for the first time in months. "I never wanted this to happen at all. I only… I was sure I could do this, but now I'm not so sure anymore. I wouldn't be of any help to you, I'm sure."

"It's not about you being helpful to me. It's not your job to be helpful. That's not what I asked you out for."

"I just feel so sorry for you. You shouldn't have to go through all this alone. But I'm not sure if I can handle it. I felt it again. I felt your… death. That was perhaps the worst thing I've ever felt in my life. And I'm not sure I can take this. I'm sorry…" By now, the short blonde was almost in tears. His voice had become so thin, that Kenny had to listen really hard to understand the boy.

"I don't want to hurt you, Kenny."

Kenny looked to the floor, as if it was going to give him any answers to this dilemma. This was it, huh? Butters had put it into prettier words than he was used to, but what he meant to say was, that he was dumping him, right? And who could blame him? Even if Tweek or whoever told him not to give up there was nothing he could do, but to quietly step down before this could turn any uglier than it already was.

"It's ok." Kenny pressed out, too tired to argue any more.

"It's not your fault, Butters. I'm glad we sorted this out." With these words, Kenny slipped out of the boys room quietly, leaving a troubled and teary eyed blonde behind.

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It's embarrassing how long it took me to finish this and that it turned out so short. Next chapter won't be so angsty. Pls leave a review anyway.


	6. Weapon of choice

I'm often told that I'm really unromantic. I have to admit- it's completely true. It really made writing this chapter hard for me. I hope the changes in their behavior aren't too confusing. Let me know what you think! (Pls also give me some feedback on my English, my dear readers. Am I making many mistakes, especially grammatically? I know my comma placement must be awful :/…) Anyway, here we go.

Chapter 6: Weapon of choice

For Butters the last two weeks had perhaps been the most depressive of his young life. Kenny didn't talk to him at school anymore, he wouldn't even look at him. He always made sure to sit with his back to Butters so no interaction was possible. It was stupid, Butters tried to reason with himself- rejecting someone and then somehow feeling rejected himself. It was his fault after all, he knew. He had told Kenny that they couldn't be together and he had been the one to keep him at a distance. Now, he started to feel like perhaps his decision had been a mistake.

He felt himself inexplicably drawn to the other boy. He couldn't stop looking at him, even if the other boy's gaze never met his. It was almost too embarrassing to think about, but he sometimes deliberately walked by Kenny really close so he could get a nose full of his smell, and at night when he lay in his bed he imagined cuddling Kenny instead of his blankets. There had been no further dreams of the other, neither pleasant ones nor nightmares. Why was he so stupid? He'd been so cold to Kenny and he had seen how much the other suffered from his distance and now he was falling in love harder than before? What was he supposed to do? Kenny was probably really mad at him for behaving like an asshole, how could he just tell him that he had suddenly changed his mind?

But really, it all came down to whether he himself was able to handle Kenny's condition. If he broke down every time something weird happened to the other then there really was no way they could have any kind of relationship ever. But this time the short blonde was determined to at least try and improve himself. He looked at the back of the DVD in his hands skeptically. It had some images printed that he could barely make out, but it involved liters of artificial blood and gore. To be honest, the first two horror movies he had seen this evening (and which had been basically the first in his life) had left him shaking and jumping at every little noise, and the nauseous feeling in his gut had increased to the point where he felt that he needed to throw up. But he was determined. If he couldn't handle some movies that all his friends had no problem watching and even making fun of, how could a sissy like him possibly bear Kenny's deadly affliction?

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and put the DVD in the player with shaky fingers.

It would be wrong to assume that Eric Cartman didn't think about the consequences of his doings. He did, in fact, he gave the pros and cons much more thought than anyone would give him credit for. It was just that he… well, he didn't always care about the consequences as long as they didn't affect himself negatively.

Therefore it wasn't very hard for him to pour the bucket of goat blood upon the paved terrace behind his house, where deep lines had been carved into the concrete. Fortunately, his mum had decided to visit the family for a week or two, so he'd had all the time in the world to prepare. Of course, this was only an experiment, not the BIG plan, for that he'd need way more than just one bucket of blood (sometimes it just came in handy to be one of the best costumers of the butcher shop in town). The book he had found at a yard sale a few weeks ago had turned out to be a golden opportunity for him.

In South Park, weird things happened all the time. He remembered most of them, always ready to use whatever information he came across to his advantage. And this might just have been the best thing he'd found in a long time.

With a satisfied smile, he rubbed the blood into the carved lines, making the transformation circle complete.

Butters let out a high-pitched scream when the first pebble hit his window.

On the TV screen was a horde of tiny zombie things running after a woman and he had been curled together under his blanket watching, before he'd gotten the shock of his life. He found the remote after a moment of panicked fumbling and paused the movie, leaving the terrified face of the woman frozen on the screen. The next pebble hit his window and he twitched again in surprise.

As carefully as possibly he climbed out from underneath his safe hiding spot and approached the window as if he thought that he would lay eyes upon a bunch of zombies in a second. Of course, when he was close enough to get a view of the street in front of the house, there was nothing there. At least, no zombie. In the shadow of the tree however, there was someone, a boy with a hood, carefully weighing the next pebble to throw.

Before the boy could pitch Butters had opened the window and looked down to him in surprise. It was only late afternoon and the sky had barely begun to adopt a rosy tinge, so Butters could see the person standing in his front garden quite clearly.

"What are you doing here, Kenny?"

"I came to get you."

"W-Why that? Where are we going?"

"I'll tell you when you come down." Kenny said, leaning behind the tree as to make clear that he would wait here all night if he had to. Butters sighed in defeat and began to change from his pajamas into something warmer.

When he stepped out of the house, still trying to get the zipper of his jacket to close, Kenny grabbed him an unceremoniously dragged him along until they reached his beat up car parked in front of the house. Kenny shoved a mildly protesting boy in and then sat down in the drivers seat and took off without another word. 

It was silent in the car for a few very long minutes. It wasn't a complete awkward silence, but it was tense with unspoken words. Kenny drove them out of the town where the fields began and the woods could be seen as a dark silhouette on top of the next hill.

"Where are we going?" Butters finally dared to ask when the lights from the town could be barely seen in the rear mirror.

"We're almost there", the other boy responded enigmatically.

And then, finally they reached their destination and Kenny parked the car in an grassy spot next to a few big trees. There wasn't much to see from Butters' position, only a faint orange/reddish light at the horizon, announcing the nearing nightfall. There were a lot of trees and a clearing perhaps a hundred meters ahead, but there was nothing to give any indication as to why he had been dragged out here. 

"Come on, get out. We have to walk for a bit." Kenny said as he himself got out of the car first and slammed the old door shut behind him. After a moment's hesitation Butters did the same.

It wasn't long before the car was barely visibly behind all the trees and vegetation. Butters started to get really nervous. Why would Kenny suddenly show up, drag him into the woods without saying more than a few chopped sentences? Oh god, Kenny didn't plan on hurting him, did he? He wasn't just dragging him out here so no one would hear him scream, right? Man, shouldn't have watched all those horror movies in a row, Butters thought to himself, still following Kenny on a narrow path leading through the dark patch of forest.

Then, Butters spotted the reason why Kenny had taken him here. It was certainly nothing to be scared of, but rather something to make him feel awed and speechless.

On a clearing stood a table with two chairs on either side. There was a nice white tablecloth, flowers, candles in slender silver candle holders. The table was set very beautifully, round silver containers promised some appetizing treats. It was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him, and Butters felt baffled as if someone had just slapped him a few times. Kenny stood next to him, obviously uncomfortable, as if he had been forced into the whole thing, and uncharacteristically rigid. 

"Well... wanna sit down?" He asked, his face a funny mixture of pale and blotchy red skin.

"Sure", Butters mumbled, for some reason embarrassed as well.

Kenny took a big breath and some of the stress seemed to just fall off of him, as he helped Butters sit down and then placed himself opposite of the boy.

"I'm really glad I could convince you to come here with me."

"You pretty much just dragged me over, didn't you?" Butters laughed and Kenny couldn't help but smile at the sound.

"If you really didn't want to come you would have let me know. Seeing as you're here..." He looked to the ground somewhere beside him, as to not look at Butters directly.

"That means you're not mad at me anymore, right?"

"Me? Mad at you? I was never mad. I thought you were!"

Their eyes met and both grinned sheepishly.

"I'm not mad, Butters. I was pretty disappointed and dejected though, I'll admit that. I know you must think I'm weird, but I changed my mind. I don't wanna give up just like that. So I thought I'd arrange this for you as a sign that I'm really serious about you. Hope it's not too cheesy…"

Butters laughed, the first real and cheerful laugh since he and Kenny met in the school bathroom and broke of that first beginning of what was about to bloom into a relationship.

"It's not too cheesy. It's really sweet of you, to be honest." He blushed a little but smiled and couldn't hide the bubbling joy he felt inside. Kenny was fighting for him. He wanted him so much that he even arranged for a romantic sort-of-picnic for the two of them. Butters could easily say that no one had ever wanted or appreciated him this much. "I really like it. Thank you." His small hand crept closer to Kenny's until they joined on top of the table. Kenny's thumb stroked lovingly over Butter's hand.

"You're very welcome. Now how about some dinner?"

"I'd love that. But one question...how did you do all this? Putting all this stuff here and even a full-course meal…and it's not even cold yet, either…"

Kenny grinned from ear to ear. "I might have had some help."

A short distance away, Craig held the door of his truck open for his boyfriend. "Hope this was worth it", he mumbled in his gruff voice, but Tweek knew how Craig felt and just gave him a beautiful smile. "I'm sure it was." And for his troubles, the dark haired teen got a wonderfully long kissing session before driving home.

A little while later, after Butters and Kenny had finished their dinner, the taller boy spread a blanket on the ground and they enjoyed each others company like that, just sitting closely together and cuddling. Kenny had his arm around the other, holding him close, his other hand rested on Butters knee. Butters leaned onto him, his head pressed against Kenny's chest, his hand joined with Kenny's.

"I'm sorry." Butters voice disrupted the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "I never meant to treat you like I have."

Kenny pulled him a little closer, softly pressing his face against the top of the blonde's head. "Don't worry about it. Nothing to apologize for."

"Yes, it is", the other insisted. "It wasn't fair of me. I don't want you to think I'm a coward."

"I never thought that."

"Well, I did. I was pretty shocked and overwhelmed by these weird… experiences. But I can learn to deal with them. I promise."

The smaller blonde turned slightly in his arms, to be able to look into the other boy's eyes. Kenny was unable to say anything. It was already quite dark but the light of the candles reflected in Butter's eyes, giving the soft blue orbs an almost mystical glint. What he could see in them was resolve, a strong will and a little flame that, if treated correctly, would evolve into a passionate, loving blaze. Without any further response he gently cupped Butters' face and leaned closer.

When their lips met, Butters nearly felt himself melt. There was a soft tingling feeling somewhere in his body that he couldn't place and gentleness towards the other boy that he had never known before. It was as if his heart had warmed up suddenly and tried to spread that warmth into the whole of his body, in every little part, every nerve, every cell.

He pressed himself closer into Kenny's body, half leaning on him, half on his lap and he found that having a boyfriend and being somewhere alone to kiss and cuddle was even better than he had ever imagined it to be.

Eric Cartman certainly didn't usually sweat this much, considering how he detested any kind of physical exertion.

He had found something within himself, a weird feeling of a hidden ability, something that empowered him to accomplish his goal. When he had began the ritual, chanting the age old verses from the necronomicon, he had found something of like a light in the darkness deep within his soul. There had been a spark somewhere and it had wanted out. With each line that feeling had become stronger and now he could feel a weird tingling sentiment all over his body, it was in his hair, in his eyes, in his blood, in his toes. It was a raw power that he had tapped into with a few magic words and a few liters of blood.

He was panting heavily, his hands stretched out above the circle in a beckoning way. He wanted a weapon. He wanted a kind of power that no one else had, not Stan, not fucking Kyle, nobody. So what if he didn't have a father like all those suckers? Obviously he didn't need one. He'd done this all by himself, and he would accomplish whatever he wanted on his own.

Suddenly the wind picked up, whirling up dirt and dry leaves, that slowly circled around him as if drawn to his power. The pudgy boy grinned- it was working! The circle that had been painstakingly chiseled into the asphalt emitted a faint reddish light that mingled with the soft colours of the sunset, while the smell of boiling blood grew stronger. It made Cartman feel a little dizzy, if he was honest with himself, but he wasn't about to give up. He was so close, _so close_.

The wind lashed around him, strong enough to leave him blind for a few seconds. Tears stung in his eyes, and the circle was alight in a way that made it hard to directly look into the center.

He couldn't help but chuckle. There it was! He'd done it! Here came his weapon.

A blurry form could be seen within the light, ascending up towards the ground as if it rose up straight from hell. Two horns were visible on top of a dark head. As the form slowly rose Cartman could see it's shape better. It appeared to be human, mostly at least. It had a normal looking head, besides the horns and somewhat pointy ears. Black hair framed a face that could easily be described as handsome, had the skin not been a sickly looking pale shade and the expression not so cold and empty. What did however leave a uncomfortable feeling were the blood red eyes, circled by unhealthy looking dark shadows, that stared at him with an obscure gaze. The – boy apparently- wore black clothing the same shade as his disheveled hair. His hands bore claws rather than nails and behind him was a long, thin tail swishing from side to side, covered in black fur. His bare, clawed feet touched the ground softly as he came to a halt in front of his thick counterpart.

His expression was unreadable, no emotion seemed to cloud his face whatsoever.

For a moment, Cartman was speechless. He'd expected something a bit more scary, like a screaming orc brandishing a bloody axe or something, but this would have to do. Not exactly his weapon of choice, but if it worked, he wouldn't care about it's appearance.

"What's your name?" he asked the demon, hoping it would understand him at all.

For a moment he was greeted with silence, then the boy opened his mouth as if reluctant to voice his name to a stranger. "Damien" he said, his tone surprisingly soft but not necessarily in a good way.

"I called you here, Damien. My name is Eric Cartman and you are my weapon from now on. You will do as I say, you got that?"

The demons face didn't change.

"Yes... master."

Ha! You didn't expect that, did you? Neither did I. It kind of just happened. Let's see what happens from here on... Reviews make me write faster :P


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